


The Travelers

by Pandaquinn6



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Budding Love, F/M, Romance, Tomione 2020 fic gift exchange, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandaquinn6/pseuds/Pandaquinn6
Summary: Poets said eyes were the window to one's soul - but Hermione wasn’t sure what that meant if you had torn your soul. Was the mirror fractured? Was it even there anymore? Or had it shattered and fallen out of view?Ron and Hermione travel back in time in order to stop the Dark Lord before he can begin. After Ron's mysterious death, Hermione must find a way to accomplish the mission on her own.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12
Collections: Poisoned Kiss Under the Mistletoe Tomione Secret Santa 2020





	The Travelers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhiteWallsKill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteWallsKill/gifts).



> Hi lovelies, please enjoy this fic. It's actually the first fic I have ever completed though I've been reading fanfiction since I was 12! I'm now much older than that, so it's nice to be able to contribute to the community. Please enjoy. 
> 
> I've written this for the lovely Grapejuicelover, though I will admit that I've taken some creative liberties from the prompt given and probably missed parts as the story took me on a journey as well as I was writing. (Perhaps I'll write you a separate fluff piece as an apology?)

Hermione tightened the silver and green tie around her neck and gathered her cloak around her body. These pieces finished her daily ensemble since arriving to Hogwarts in the 1940s. Her eyes slowly traveled back up and met her own gaze in the ornate dresser mirror across from her. Poets said eyes were the window to one's soul - but Hermione wasn’t sure what that meant if you had torn your soul. Was the mirror fractured? Was it even there anymore? Or had it shattered and fallen out of view?

So many torn souls after the war had ended. So many tragedies she was trying to erase before they even happened.  _ But at what cost? _ Her conscious battled.  _ At what cost? _

The cost of Ron’s life, of his future. The cost was high, but the goal was larger. When she and Ron had traveled back in time to put an end to Tom Riddle they had plans - goals and tasks to accomplish in order to slowly inch closer to achieving the main objective. Eliminate Tom Riddle - permanently. 

Hermione could remember it as if it was just last night. Headmaster Dumbledore was standing in the Astronomy Tower on a chilly October night at the parapet gazing up at the stars. Hermione and Ron had been requested to meet him there through a missive that was sent to the Burrow. It was months after the final battle, though the scars were as fresh as ever. 

“I’m glad you both came,” Dumbledore said, turning to face them. His eyes twinkled in the starlight fiercely. “I have a rather unusual offer. I must say that it is ultimately your choice - as it is an extremely dangerous endeavor.” Hermione and Ron glanced at one another, silently gauging each other's thoughts on the ominous wording before turning their attention back to Dumbledore. “I have devised a way to go back in time, much farther than a traditional time turner. As far back as the early 1940’s” he stated, his eyes turning to look back towards the night sky.

Hermione stiffened at the implications, her mind rapidly digesting the possibilities and risks. She could feel Ron tense as well. “Your offer?” Ron spoke first, typical in his impatience. 

Dumbledore spoke quietly, “You could eliminate Lord Voldemort at the start.” 

“Why ask this of us, after everything we sacrificed? Ron and I have lost  _ everything  _ because of the war! Haven’t we given enough?” Hermione snapped, both indignant and falling apart simultaneously. Her thoughts cluttered as the faces flashed before her mind - her parents, all of the Weasleys, Harry, and so many others who they’d never see again. Ron slowly reached towards her to wrap an arm around her as tears began to fall, but she jerked away. The sting of rejection that used to follow had disappeared after the first few months, but he hadn’t stopped trying to provide her comfort. She just wished she wasn’t so damaged she could accept it. 

“Which is why, Miss Granger, I thought you would both be the most interested in this plan.” Hermione considered this and nodded at him to continue. “The risks are great but fortunately there is also a way to return when your mission is accomplished.”

Silenced reined as the wind flew in gentle swirls around them in the tower. Ron broke the stillness with a determined statement - “I’m in”. 

Hermione and Ron only had each other at this point. She had followed him and Harry into war and she would do it again - especially if it meant that no one would have to experience the tragedies they had endured. She could see all of her loved ones again. She could imagine hugging Harry - his green eyes alight with joy and his strong arms wrapped around her as she buried her face into his warm sweater. Family dinners at the burrow - scents wafting from the kitchen as laughter filled the living room at the twins antics. Warm cocoa snuggled up under the blankets and watching Christmas movies with her parents. It was everything she dreamed of having once more, all offered for one simple task of tearing her soul once more in order to eliminate Tom Riddle earlier than they had managed this time around. 

“When do we leave?” Hermione asked, making eye contact with Ron. Understanding and support passed between them - they would tackle this as a team - like always. 

“As soon as possible,” Dumbledore stated.

Once in the Headmaster’s office, he handed them both a file on their new identities. Ron would remain a pureblooded Weasley from a distant branch that had broken off for Germany at some point. He would be returning to England after having a private tutor for his education and settling down at Hogwarts in order for his betrothed - Hermione - to become formally educated. This was not too uncommon that it would raise suspicion. Apparently in the 1940’s, women past 5th year needed to be betrothed or they were no longer permitted at Hogwarts. Dumbledore explained it was all about purity for marriage and raging hormones - or something of that matter. To Hermione, it sounded like sexism and control at it’s finest. 

Hermione would be a pureblooded lady - a distant cousin of Dumbledore himself though he explained they were not to be close. He handed them a sealed packet that they were to give his former self when they arrived to explain the situation and the method past-Dumbledore would use to return them to the present time. The seal itself was imbued with his magical signature which he explained would assure his past self that it was not a trick. Times were troubled for his prior self during those years. Grindelwald, while defeated, had left him cautious of those around him.

“Be careful, and while there make sure to keep your eyes alert for his followers. Most importantly, take your time - you cannot afford to make a mistake on this mission” Dumbledore stated, his voice serious as he relayed the final details. 

Soon after, Dumbledore sent them back in time with a startling array of lights and magic so powerful she felt it travel throughout her entire being. 

* * *

  
  


Months had passed since then, the entire plan had dissolved around them piece by piece. So many unaccounted for variables had arisen. Firstly, Hermione was placed in Slytherin, while Ron was in Gryffindor. Gender restrictions also posed an unforeseen challenge. Being ones intended meant, especially in Ron’s supposed calibre of pure bloodedness, etiquette insisted that they be supervised by other housemates when in the presence of one another. Both of these factors made it harder to communicate and strategize as their plan moved ahead. Other variables included that Riddle was simply much more charming, intelligent, and cunning than anticipated. He seemed to always know when she had snuck out and who she had met up with - insisting that his confronting her was because of his responsibilities of Head Boy and concern for members of his house.

Hermione knew that he knew that she knew better. 

Riddle and Hermione were also battling for superiority in classes. Both pushing each other to new limits of achievement as their skills grew rapidly due to the increased vigour. Professors were astounded and jovial - taking personal pride in their accomplishments. It had nothing to do with the professors though, and everything to do with establishing a pecking order. Riddle had been maintaining the status quo for quite some time before she arrived. He was not only Head Boy, representing a shining star of moral fibre, but also the brightest Wizard Hogwarts had seen in the past century. Hermione, in her task to destroy him, had made a personal goal to even eliminate his achievements by overshadowing them with her own brilliance. Needless to say, it definitely brought attention to herself. 

Riddle was like a moth to a flame. He sat with her in classes, at meals, in the library, even in the common room. Aft er the first month or so, Hermione was beginning to understand him in ways she didn’t think she could before. She knew without a doubt that he wasn’t, at least not yet, Lord Voldemort. She came upon this conclusion through the small things. Firstly, he was entirely human still. He was still a teenage boy and acted as such in most ways. He smiled when he c racked a complicated arithmetic equation. His eyes started to darken from multiple late nights in the common room researching. He let out sighs of frustration when he finished a book without finding the information he was searching for. He ate like every other boy she had ever known - taking large portions and eating quickly - though he was much more delicate and well mannered than Ron in this regard. 

He fit in well with the other purebloods of this timeline. So well, that she understood why most of the upper echelon were convinced that he was their messiah to a better future. He was refined in his mannerisms and speech - to the point where only a careful observer with knowledge of his heritage could see that his behaviors were a touch more intentional than instinctual. He delivered rousing and emotional speeches - even if it was simply about Slytherin winning the Quidditch match that week. He inspired confidence in his decisions through a determined look and a steady tone. He also kept a tight ship on his followers - or as they were referred to publicly - associates. Hermione had noticed that they barely so much as spent a galleon without having prior approval first. The rest of Slytherin didn’t even notice at this point - being so absorbed in this dynamic since they were 11 - they considered this rather typical behavior for the men of the house.

Despite all the unexpected behaviors Riddle had, he still had predictable ones. He was intelligent beyond any normal Hogwarts student. He had the cunning and charm to con the gold from a king. He was quick to temper, especially with his followers. He never made deals or bets with anyone - despite it being popular to bet on quidditch. He had a fascination with divination that made her head swirl - though based on his belief in the prophecy she should have seen it coming. He definitely - though quietly - acquired knowledge on darker magic from his restricted section pass. He had charmed Professor Merrythought into providing for his advanced Defense project. Hermione was not surprised that he was well loved by both staff and students alike due to his mix of charm and looks alike. He was rather plain at first glance, though when his eyes met Hermione’s she knew she was in trouble. His espresso colored eyes  _ were _ a window to his soul. They were alight with a fire - burning so bright that she often thought she might be consumed in their wake. 

Ron had told her that she was barmy when she had tried to explain that Riddle was much more than Dumbledore had ever seen. He explained that she had simply been spending too much time near him - which frankly she did spend most of her time with him at that point - and that she needed to clear her head. That concern for her wellbeing had led to him interrupting many of the times she had previously spent with Riddle. While Hogwarts rules dictated that they had to sit at their assigned dining tables, everywhere else was fair game. Ron began to sit next to her in classes they shared with Gryffindor, bringing out fierce glares from Riddle as he was displaced. Ron also began showing up frequently to the library, mostly to pull her away to the Quidditch pitch or the Gryffindor common room. This caused Riddle to confront her one day that she was not taking her studies seriously enough, though she was still rivaling him in classes. 

The tension between the two men boiled over one Saturday morning in September. Hermione was walking with Riddle to the lake to collect some specimens for a project when Ron came running across the lawn. “Hermione! Why don’t you ditch this wanker and come to Hogsmeade with me today?” Ron yelled. Quite the audience heard, as there were many students basking in the nice weather or on their way to Hogsmeade themselves.

“Ron!” she began to chastise, but Riddle beat her to it.

“She’s a little busy with me, we’ve got actual work to do” Riddle responded, acerbically. 

“I’m sure she could do it later, without a git like you involved. She needs to spend time with her betrothed” Ron bit out.

“She, unlike you, knows how essential it is that these samples are collected in a specific time frame,” Riddle argued. “Something an idiot such as yourself couldn’t comprehend - are you still passing Potions or have they put you in remedial classes yet?” Riddle knew where to strike, and so he did. Ron had been rather tender lately about the fact that his academics were starting to seriously degrade. Hermione no longer had time to guide him, the coursework in the 1940’s was far more advanced than in the future, and he had missed quite a number of lessons at future Hogwarts due to the megalomaniac in front of him. Ron’s face turned an ugly shade of red and his fist clenched. Ron had suddenly pulled his wand and was aiming it at Riddle’s face. Riddle, for the most part, looked as calm as ever. The only signs of tension were a tightening around his eye and his hand stiffening his grip around his wand - which was now out as well.

Hermione saw the signs of this turning ugly quickly and darted in front of Riddle rather intentionally. The last thing she needed was for Ron to curse the current Head Boy on the front lawn of Hogwarts. It would raise suspicion when Riddle did eventually “go missing”. 

Ron, in all his emotions, did not see this in the same light as she did. “Are you defending him!” he seethed. His eyes alight with fury and hatred. It was easy to understand Ron’s emotions. Ron had always been quick to anger and despite Riddle’s slight being meaningless in the grand scheme of things, it was difficult not to bring up all the hatred of what they knew he did in the future into current times. 

“No, Ron, Come on!” she stepped towards Ron and away from Riddle, grabbing Ron’s arm and pulling him towards the castle. She spoke no words to Riddle, instead focusing her attention on calming Ron and diffusing the situation. She did however look back once, noticing Riddle’s eyes burn in fury at Hermione once again being pulled away from him by Ron. 

* * *

Looking back it was always easier to see how things had come to be. Hindsight was twenty twenty as her mother used to say. She thought frequently on what they had done wrong, on what they could have done better to avoid the outcome that had occurred. It kept her awake at night, the grief of losing Ron. She theorized that Ron had created a target on his back by constantly pushing Riddle. Ron knew that Riddle had developed a desire to be around her often, but Ron had insisted that she spend time further from Riddle. By society's standards, she should have been spending more time with Ron than Riddle as well. That made it impolite and therefore impossible for Riddle to argue various times when Ron had guided her away. He had an image to uphold afterall. 

It didn’t help that Ron often included gibes and insults - once even going so far as to infer that he thought that Riddle’s blood was in some way muddled. Which had incited quite the furious fight between Hermione and Ron once in private. She wasn’t aware that Ron could so quickly use that type of language and ideology to hurt someone. It also had the potential to give them away if they knew more than they should rightly know. 

The worst part was that Ron had  _ disappeared  _ a few days after the altercation. There was no body for her to find closure with or to indicate any clues to what may have happened. Hermione was wrecked with grief over not knowing how he had died. Her thoughts swirled with images of him being tortured before being killed. She had even gone to Professor Dumbledore to insist that he must know how to right this terrible wrong - to which he stated he had only been provided with the information to travel forward in time and not backward. Visiting Professor Dumbledore had given her some closure though - as he was able to show her a spell that indicated that Ron had in fact passed and was not being kept alive and tortured. It was magic closely related to the clock the Weasley family had on their wall. 

It was a full week before Headmaster Dippet addressed the school to explain Ron’s disappearance. He told the school that it was likely that Ron had visited the Forbidden Forest alone. Due to this unforeseen and unfortunate tragedy, he declared the Forbidden Forest off-limits from this point forward to all students. 

Though time had passed since Ron had disappeared, Hermione still felt broken and brittle. She had rapidly descended into herself once she realized he was gone and spent the majority of the following weeks isolated from everyone. Thankfully, due to her betrothed status this was both a required and expected time of grieving. She even avoided classes and often spent her entire days in her room which allowed her to avoid her peers as well - Tom Riddle included. When not overcome with the grief of losing her last remaining friend and only support in her current situation, she began to earnestly develop her occlumency skills. While on the run with Harry and Ron she had begun her training. She gleaned first hand experience from Harry while reading every text she had on hand on the subject. She had become quite advanced, but she knew her next phase of her plan would require her to be an expert. It also helped with compartmentalizing her most recent loss.. 

  
  


While in her mourning period, she realized that Ron’s passing created a large pitfall in the original plan. She no longer was permitted at Hogwarts due to not having a betrothed. While Hogwarts had been kind enough to give her a grief period, a summoning from the Headmaster came as she expected. Hermione’s heart raced as she traveled the staircases. She had been analyzing this issue but had not devised a way to circumvent it and remain at Hogwarts. It wasn’t as if a man would suddenly propose to her. She had focused all of her attention on the mission and none on making acquaintances in this time. She would need to leave Hogwarts and wait for an opportunity when Riddle graduated. With that thought in mind, she rode the staircase up to the Headmaster’s office. 

“Miss Dore, I am so grateful to see you up and around. I am terribly sorry for your loss” Headmaster Dippet spoke. His general body-language read to her of aloof and uninterested. The office was far different from how it was in her time. While the portraits of former Headmasters remained, gone were all of the boobles, candy, and instruments of Dumbledore’s. In their place were ministry awards and photos of Dippet shaking hands with the Minister and Wizengamot members. She struggled to find her proper manners as she sat across from him. 

“Thank you, Headmaster” she responded, gazing towards the floor to show respect. She had picked up some typical behaviors that women in the 1940’s adhered to during her time here. Being demure and quiet were desired traits. 

“Yes, yes, well let’s get on with it. You are aware that only betrothed witches are permitted at Hogwarts at your age. While there was quite a tragedy, unfortunately the Ministry - and myself - were unable to make an exception-” Dippet was cut off by the office door suddenly opening and Tom Riddle briskly entering the office.

“Headmaster Dippet, my apologies. I was hoping to find Hermione here as I have some important business for us to attend to” Riddle stated, his impeccable manners in full display. It was clear from Dippets immediate smile and jovial response that he was as twisted into Tom’s clutches as any professor (sans Dumbledore). 

“No apologies necessary, Tom! You know you are always welcome, though unfortunately I am sharing some delicate news regarding Miss Dore’s enrollment here at Hogwarts” he explained, putting on a sympathetic facade when glancing towards Hermione. Hermione almost rolled her eyes at the about-face before glancing towards Riddle who had moved closer. Riddle was standing directly next to her at this point. He looked down at her and his eyes danced. 

“I was hoping I could do this in private - “ he spoke, and Hermione could tell he was lying through his teeth. He bent down onto one knee and reached out for her hand. Hermione was surprised at the contact. His hand felt warm and grounding as it gently held her smaller one “Hermione, I know things are still fresh from your loss. I am also aware that while we are friendly we do not know each other well. I would like to ask for your hand in marriage - and of course I will ask your parents formally based on your response. While I recognize this may be sudden, it would be a terrible tragedy to see you leave this institution and for me to forever wonder what if. I hope we can grow to know each other better over time and eventually make our union official. What do you say?” RIddle smiled, though it did not meet the corner of his eyes. It was an offer she could hardly refuse given her position and the ability to solidify her place both at Hogwarts. It would also give her the ability to spend time with Riddle unquestioned, though probably accompanied more formally by his associates. While she could hardly say no, she did fear saying yes. His eyes were especially determined in that moment, the fire behind them flickering with untold plans. 

“I-” Hermione stuttered. She couldn’t even process what was happening. His hand was still clasped around hers, holding it firmly. She could feel his heartbeat even through it, calm but steady. She was sure he could feel hers racing - galloping miles a minute as the moment stretched out in front of her like an eternity. “I accept” she finally sputtered out, feeling both exhilarated at the new possibilities but also overwhelmed with the implications of what Riddle could be planning. Riddle’s following smile looked positively feral for a split second before smoothing over to a smirk. He lifted her hand to kiss the back of it firmly before releasing her and rising from the floor. 

“Jolly me oh my!” Dippet exclaimed, clearly as taken aback as anyone would be. “Well, Miss Dore, that seems to have made our conversation rather unnecessary. Congrats, Mister Riddle and Miss Dore. I look forward to the wedding! Now, back to your studies!” he expressed, and with that they were dismissed.    


* * *

All of which led to Hermione gazing at herself again in the overly-ornate Slytherin standard mirror as she pondered what it meant to have only part of a soul. She supposed that Riddle had already killed both Myrtle and his family - yet his eyes shone as brightly and as intensely as anyone she had ever met. Her own eyes also looked similar to when she was young, though she supposed that the weariness and edge that living through a war gave her wasn’t there as a child. Sometimes she felt so old despite still being so young.

“Hermione! Riddle is waiting for you in the common room!” Druella Rosier huffed as she went back to her side of their shared room to grab a scarf she had forgotten. Druella disliked when Riddle asked her to relay messages to Hermione, which he did quite often. The weather was dipping dramatically as November began, causing this to be the coldest Hogsmeade’s trip of the year. Hermione likewise grabbed a scarf and began her descent to the common room and into the presence of her new betrothed. Playing betrothed to Riddle was different than with Ron. While it still wasn’t a genuine engagement with Ron it had been a team decision to accomplish an objective. With Riddle, it was a constant game. Only Hermione wasn’t sure what his strategy was or what the win requirements were. Despite returning to their original habit of spending most days together, she had been unable to decipher exactly what his motives were for tying her to himself. 

It had been a few weeks since their engagement had been announced publicly to the school. Hermione had anticipated a fair amount of backlash from the student body, given that she was jumping from one engagement to another with practically no time in between. It was to her surprise that many students were understanding and simply accepted that she and Riddle were officially exclusive. It left her to wonder whether that was a common cultural acceptance or whether her and Riddle’s relationship prior to Ron’s passing had left the general masses to anticipate this kind of event occurring given the circumstances.

Riddle greeted her in the common room with his trademark smirk before gently taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Hermione swooned a little to herself, loving the mannerisms gentleman of this time period had. At least that’s what she told herself, resolutely dismissing the fact that Riddle himself could be part of the reason. “Ready to go?” he asked before they took off for their first Hogsmeade date together. 

Hogsmeade was both quieter and more vibrant than she could remember in her times. She imagined that two wars would do that to a town. In the early 1940’s Hogsmeade was a bustling but peaceful town filled to the brim with successful shops and bars to explore. Every street was packed with both students and townsfolk alike darting in and out of buildings. Laughter and conversation filled the air as she strolled next to Riddle. As she gazed around taking in all the differences between the two versions of Hogsmeade she knew, she noticed that Riddle seemed to be watching her each time she turned her gaze to him. 

Riddle led them through various different shops throughout the day. They started at a supply store called Graque’s, which to Hermione’s knowledge did not exist in her time. They browsed around the store together, making comments on the various knick-knacks and bobbles that were out for the early Christmas shoppers. Hermione noticed the quill display first, eagerly approaching it to inspect their quality and selection. Hermione delicately picked up a silver pheasant quill, noticing that the store carried remarkably quality quills for its otherwise gift-shop like wares. 

“They have eagle quills as well. I’ve heard from Black that they are the best in Hogsmeade” Riddle commented, his presence close behind her.

“I know most would disagree with me, but there’s something about pheasant quills that I prefer to an eagle quill. Perhaps it’s simply nostalgia - it was the first type of quill I learned to write with” Hermione mentioned, twirling the quill as she spoke.

“It seems that we have quill preference in common as well” he stated, plucking the quill from her grasp.

“As well as what?” she stated, feeling that there was a deeper meaning in his words. He twirled the quill around inspecting it as she had before. 

“You and I are similar in many ways, Hermione. Though this is a conversation for another time and place” he deflected, picking up a few more quills before making his way to the cashier. After leaving the store, he handed her half of the quills he had purchased as a gift. Despite the vague comment, Hermione and Riddle went on to visit a few more stores, spending the majority of the day in the bookstore as could be expected. They poured over various titles and shared opinions on the theories and methods. It was similar to how they spent most weekends, though it was refreshing to be out and about instead of in the library. Hermione matched Riddles arguments word for word, keeping him engaged and interested throughout their time together. It was calming when they were able to discuss academics and research, it was a break in the otherwise complex game of social interaction they were weaving. Hermione could hardly give away anything about herself when they were discussing different methods in brewing a draught. 

The same could not be said when they eventually went to The Three Broomsticks for lunch. Riddle and Hermione sat together at a booth in the farthest corner from the door. Riddle then proceeded to cast notice-me-not charms and privacy charms around themselves. Hermione thought little of it, as she and her companions often did that when gathering into a booth in a busy pub, until he began to speak.

“Hermione, tell me again about your family? They sent a letter accepting my proposal, though it was rather vague and brief” he asked, the picture of innocence despite his searching eyes. Hermione had never told him anything about her make-believe family. She herself had written the letter, trying her best to emanate a purebloods response to a random man asking for their daughter's hand in marriage in this time period. Needless to say she hadn’t been super confident in her ability to pull it off and this line of questioning furthered her doubts. 

“There’s not much to say - they’re your typical pureblooded family. I’ve got many siblings, so it’s been a relief for them that I’ve been so fortunate as for your proposal” she elaborated, creating and spinning her web of lies on the spot in order to buff up her bluff. 

“Fascinating - what country were you from again? Does your father have any political roles? What family did you say your mother came from again?” He could smell blood in the water and was closing in. 

“I’m originally from France, though my mother was from Italy - she’s a Zabini. My father doesn’t care much for politics and would rather focus on his potions-making business.” Hermione did her best to answer all of the questions, but his quirked eyebrow showed that he doubted her ability to continue spinning successfully. 

“Potions making you say? Zabini? Why Hermione, I had no idea your father was a potions master. I’ve heard there’s only a handful left on the continent after that whole debacle with Grindelwald. I would love to meet them over the holidays. I am especially thrilled to learn more about the Zabini family - I’ve heard from the Malfoy’s that some relatives of yours were hoping to settle in Britain soon?” he smirked, folding the web atop of her. Hermione did not falter though, and decided to allow the bluff to ride on.

“Of course, I think it would be most appropriate for you to meet them considering our new status. I’ll owl them to make the arrangements when we return” she smiled, withholding her composure. She would figure out how to avoid that later. “As for the Zabini’s…..I find myself rather uninformed in terms of what my cousins may be up to - my mother hasn’t really been sending me updates of that regard.” 

“I’ve noticed you don’t tend to receive mail of any kind - family squabble?” he asked, attempting another direction to crack her facade.

“No, no, nothing so dramatic. There’s simply a lot going on with homeschooling my siblings, it’s no wonder that sometimes owls with updates sometimes fall to the back of the priorities” she countered, feeling confident. 

“You know what I find odd. Ron mentioned to Druella in September that you were an only child, and it was he that had many siblings” He striked, the web of her lies knotting around her like a vice. 

She deflected, “Ron was always so self-centered. He probably forgot. He never got around to properly meeting anyone in my family other than my father on a business trip”

“A business trip with your potioneer father? Weasley was terrible at potions.” Riddle pointed out. “I think it’s time you admit that your story doesn’t add up. Who are you really?” he insisted, his eyes blazing. 

“Or what, Riddle?” she knew she had been caught. Her only hope was that the public arena he had chosen would spare herself from further interrogation techniques. Riddle’s demeanor showed his irritation at her blatant rejection of his demand. 

“I’ll find out one way or another, my dear fiance” he smiled threatenly before standing. Hermione watched as he exited The Three Broomsticks, leaving her to wonder what to do now.

* * *

Hermione was on her way back to the common room after a late-night tutoring session in the library when suddenly arms reached out and grabbed her from behind. She attempted to scream for help but realized that she no longer had a voice. Realizing a  _ silencio  _ had been cast on her, she reached to pull her wand from it’s holster only to find the person behind her had beaten her to it, obviously someone familiar with where she kept it. She could feel herself being dragged into the unused classroom in the corridor, still unable to see her captor behind her. She knew that it wasn’t Tom though, as the arms behind her were bulkier and the smell was of peppermint and sage. Hermione wished she didn’t know him well enough to know exactly what Tom smelled of - fresh parchment, wood fires, and ink. Favorites of hers, really. 

Once they were in the classroom she was deposited not so kindly onto a chair. Looking around she could see that her assaulter was Abraxas Malfoy - one of Tom’s most notable associates. Her gaze shifted to the other man in the room, making eye contact with Tom himself as he cast a silent  _ incarcerous _ . The ropes quickly slithered from his wand tying her to the chair with a snap which sent the chair teetering. “You’ve done well, Abraxas. Head back to the common room and make sure her absence isn’t questioned” he instructed, taking his time to walk slow circles around her. Hermione could feel the tension mounting. She knew that she would have to act soon in order to avoid something like this from happening, but she had assumed she would have more time before he resorted to such extreme measures. While she had always seen the inferno in his eyes, deep down she had doubted he would turn his ire in her direction. How foolish of her. “Now that Abraxas is gone, we’re going to take a little trip to ensure no nosey prefects or professors interrupt us, my dear” Riddle said sweetly, a smirk on his lips. A silent spell hit her directly in the chest before her world went dark.

The first images her eyes could see were blurry shades of yellow and red. She blinked again, bringing a row of torches into focus. The smell around her was dank and mildewy, the air heavy with moisture. The large marble wall of a man was directly in front of her from her vantage point. It was with that observation that she made a realization - she was in the Chamber of Secrets. Which led her to her second realization, the snake was still alive! She snapped her eyes shut and tried to quiet her rapid breathing despite the panic rising. “What an interesting reaction. You know where you are” his voice echoed somewhere nearby on her left, sultry and soft. “You may open your eyes, my basilisk is off feeding outside of the castle tonight.” Hermione, despite not trusting a word he said, knew the logic to be sound. He couldn’t interrogate her if she was dead. He was positioned a few feet from her where she expected, sitting in an ornate chair he must have transfigured while he waited, her school bag beside it as her wand peaked from his cloak pocket. “Tell me everything” he commanded, crossing his leg in the chair and leaning back casually. 

“I think we both know that I’m not going to tell you anything. If you let me go now, we can keep this between ourselves and you won’t be expelled” Hermione countered.

Riddle’s chuckle was sharp, “no one would believe a witch over me, especially since you’d be arguing against your own fiance, my dear. One wonders whether you truly are a pureblood, considering how much you lack knowledge of the basic culture.” The resulting curse for her non-compliance was quick but stinging. An advanced version of the common stinging hex, if she had to wager. It felt like needles had been placed along her entire body before they had all been placed into an outlet. “I’ll give you a final chance, before I take things into my own hands. I’m rather fond of you and I’d rather not have to damage your body or your mind - but you’re hiding something. You’ve been hiding all year - you and that Weasley fellow. It was a shame I never had a chance to interrogate him before he wandered into the forest. He would’ve been easier to break than you” 

“Leave Ron out of this! I’m not going to tell you anything” 

“Too true, this is about us - and most importantly, you” the spell that came next was a sickly shade of yellow. The effect was immediate as boils began breaking out over her skin. She couldn’t see any of them, but the pain was immense. He held the curse for only a minute but a sweat had already broken out. She defiantly made eye contact with him. After surviving a war and being tortured by Bellatrix, his current spells were merely courtyard hexes. Riddle made a sound as if truly displeased, rising from his chair to walk closer to Hermione. Riddle casted the counter-charm for the ropes around her. She quickly rose to her feet and placed some distance between them. Riddle’s eyes sharpened, pacing towards her as quickly as she was backing up. She suddenly felt her foot catch in a crack on the floor and felt her hip and wrist meet the marble with a snap. Riddle wasted no time before casting his strongest spell yet,  _ Crucio. _

Hermione knew not how long nor how short the spell was held. Only during the time in between she could think of nothing but the nerves in her body fraying under the intensity of the curse. She could feel her head hit the marble repeatedly, could feel the bursting of the blood vessels in her eyes. Her throat felt raw from the screams elicited. The pain was incomparable, even to her prior experience with the curse. Still, she would not willingly share the information. It was too crucial for her to remain silent, especially now that she knew Ron had not spilled their true identity and purpose. 

“-were it for me. Everything about you was perfect. Academic, charismatic, demanding, challenging, mature. A desperate desire for knowledge only matched by myself. Magical ability of a wizard twice our age. We’re so similar to one another. You were fucking perfect up until this secret of yours.” Tom was pacing the floor, his footfalls a harsh sound in her sensitive ears. “My Knights had voiced their concerns, of which they were reminded they were to have none, of how I was becoming too close to you. I didn’t listen though - I knew better than them. You were a sign that I was on the right path. You were to stand beside me as I established my rightful spot as the heir of Slytherin.” He was broken out of his reverie as Hermione felt her body quake against the floor due to an aftereffect of the curse. Riddle walked over briskly, taking her face into his soft hands. “Show me, Hermione. Legilimens!”

Despite her continued work on her occlumency, she knew stood no chance against his fiery desire for the knowledge she held. Her shields crumbled at the intrusion, allowing him free reign to explore. Explore he did, as she felt her memories flash before her. He started, most surprisingly, with a thorough examination of her life. Very quickly, he had been given the information that she was a time traveler, and yet - he stayed exploring her. He sorted through her childhood memories, Hogwarts, classes, social times she had. It was only after he had gleaned her personal information that his attention shifted to his own place in the future. She bolstered up everything she had as she felt him growing closer to a thread which could lead him to understanding Harry’s role in his downfall. She channeled her strong love for Harry, the desire to protect him as well as all the others, and finally was able to eject him from her mind with a forceful mental shove.

Once ejected, she watched as he stumbled back clutching his skull. His eyes were firmly pressed shut as he attempted to regain his composure through the pain of the rejection. Hermione scooted her way backwards on her palms to where her bag was situated next to the chair, never taking her eyes off of Tom. Tom was beginning to blink when she reached her hand into the bag and pulled out the muggle revolver she had packed in case of an emergency. Wizards never expected muggle technology, after all. 

Riddle had regained his vision and locked eyes with her. His eyes were flashing a dangerous red, the fury he felt reflected in his stance. Tom advanced towards her. Hermione breathed deeply, he had not yet seen the gun. She pointed it at him, hand on the trigger. 

Riddle, being the half-blooded orphan he was, was familiar with what a gun was. Therefore, was understandingly taken aback at its sudden appearance. His expression changed from predatory to surprise as he rapidly cast a shield. Unfortunately, Hogwarts never discussed in DADA whether a shield would stop a bullet. 

Hermione fired the gun, steady in her aim. The smell of gunpowder filled the chamber as the loud BANG followed the bullets release. It slid easily through the shield and hit him in the chest. He dropped his wand as both hands flew up to his chest. He sank to his knees slowly. The blood began to soak out, bleeding out onto his white Oxford shirt beneath his open cloak. His gaze was heartbreaking as it rose from his chest to meet hers - pure confusion like a wounded child. “H-how could you?” he whispered, his body slowly falling. 

Hermione took comfort in his cold glassy stare. 

* * *

Hermione made sure to tie up loose ends before reporting to Dumbledore to send her home. The horcruxes were destroyed, Abraxas was obliviated, and the Basilisk was relocated to a wildlife center. Far away from being a risk to the future children of Hogwarts. Upon completion of those tasks, Dumbledore utilized the packet his future self had sent him and cast the return spell on her, catapulting her to the new future.

What Hermione returned to though, was anything other than what she was expecting. She materialized in the Burrow as expected, only to see that the clock on the wall showed that all the members of the family were deceased. Quickly turning around to run out of the house to apparate elsewhere for more information, she came face to face with Harry. 

“Harry!” she swung her arms around him, but he didn’t return the gesture. “Harry? What happened?” she asked, her worry growing. 

“Dumbledore left me a message that you would arrive here at this time. I thought it was just another obscure riddle, yet here you are. I watched you die Hermione. In Malfoy manor - Bellatrix went too far… I can’t believe you’re really here. After losing everyone….” Harry was talking more to himself than her, his eyes were a vacant green she had never seen before. His body was gaunt, moreso even than the year they had lived on frozen berries and mushrooms. 

Hermione learned that another Dark Lord had risen to power soon after the defeat of Riddle. The power vacuum created had been too great for another not to take advantage of the opportunity. This Dark Lord however was not as easily vanquished as before and had managed to subjugate the entire wizarding population of Britain - destroying everyone who opposed them. Only Harry and a handful of others had managed to survive, though they were constantly on the move to avoid snatchers. Hermione felt the bile rising in her throat as defeat tore through her heart. She had replaced one nightmare for another. She had failed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Riddle (and associates) are actually not responsible for Ron's death in the original draft of this. Though you can assume in this telling of it that they are, or maybe Ron DID go stumbling into the forest like an enraged teenage boy. When I drafted this, it was actually much longer - so much so, I needed to try to cut it down to size and that involved a simplification of Ron's demise. If there is enough interest, maybe I'll come back around to the original story line and you'll find out the true murderer of one Ronald Weasley. 
> 
> Again, I hope you've enjoyed this story. Leave a comment or kudos please - and have a great 2021!!!


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